


please leave your blue scent

by trilobites



Series: HQ!! Rare Pairs 2020 [7]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Canon Compliant, Childhood Friends, Denial of Feelings, Drinking & Talking, Feelings Realization, Food, Getting Together, HQ Rarepair Week, Kissing, Love Confessions, M/M, Post-Time Skip
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-07
Updated: 2020-05-07
Packaged: 2021-03-02 19:15:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,574
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24051967
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/trilobites/pseuds/trilobites
Summary: Socks, drinks, food, memories. Hoshiumi Kourai has long ago come of age.
Relationships: Hirugami Sachirou/Hoshiumi Kourai
Series: HQ!! Rare Pairs 2020 [7]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1724674
Comments: 8
Kudos: 125





	please leave your blue scent

**Author's Note:**

> For the Haikyuu Rare Pair Week 2020 Day 7 Prompt - 'Sock.'
> 
> Title comes from ["Blue night" by Fromm.](https://youtu.be/U_CC3Sqn6bk) Recommended listening while you read!

Kourai was supposed to be out on the subway already, but he was just barely putting on his clothes. He hopped on one leg as he yanked his other leg through the pants in his hands. Dinner was in twenty minutes, but it would take thirty for the train ride alone. Tucked under his ear was his phone. He waited out the dial tone by throwing open the doors of his wardrobe and searching through his drawer for the right pair of socks. White? No. Grey? No. Brown? Whose socks were these? Kourai had never bought them.

“C’mon. Pick up your damn phone,” he muttered.

The dial tone cut off. “Hello? Kourai-kun?”

“Sachirou. I’m late.”

“We’re not meeting until 8:30, though?”

“I’m still looking for socks.” His mom had told him that people lied about their whereabouts when they were on the phone, but that was for things like business meetings or when Akitomo tried to get him to buy snacks whenever they visited home. He didn’t want Sachirou to stand somewhere waiting for him to arrive at last.

“Kourai-kun, you know that people normally lie and say that they’re on their way, right?”

“Shut up! I’m being honest because I don’t want you to stand outside!”

That was when he saw the black and blue striped athletic socks at the top of the pile in the drawer. He paused, recalling the last time that he’d worn them. It had been before an Adlers game—an official one where Adloo was announced and there were all of the lights and introductory videos playing on the screens in the stadium. Kourai had been eating, banana in one hand and sports drink in the other, when Sachirou had come past. He smiled at Kourai like he was seeing something amusing.

“What?” He had spoken around a mouthful of banana.

“Nothing. You look really serious and official.”

“So then why are you—”

Sachirou was kneeling in front of him, no explanation whatsoever. It definitely didn’t piss him off whatsoever that even crouched down, Sachirou didn’t look so small next to him. He was cool with it. Honest! But before he could say anything, Sachirou’s fingers closed around his ankle. There was a practiced softness in his touch, from handling the delicate bones of patients who couldn’t use words to communicate with him. Kourai stopped chewing. His skin tingled. Sachirou’s other hand went to the band of his sock; there was an indulgent look on his face as he adjusted it.

“Didn’t you notice your sock is twisted around?” As soon as Sachirou had started, he’d finished, too. He got back to his feet, and Kourai remembered he had a mouthful of food to swallow.

“I didn’t. I mean, I was really focused on the game. Like, super focused. But I would have noticed soon. And fixed it by myself.”

Sachirou shrugged. “Your hands were full,” he said, like it was any explanation at all.

Kourai had felt strangely self-conscious after that. He still couldn’t remember what they’d talked about until the time for warm ups came around. Something about Adloo, about the train ride to the game stadium. Then it had been time to play volleyball, and thoughts of socks, Sachirou, and banana were easy to shelve until the match was called.

“Kourai-kun?” Sachirou’s voice came from the receiver. Kourai ditched the socks and shut the drawer. Sandals it was. 

“Yeah, still here. Listen: if you want to go inside and start eating, then go ahead. I’ll call you when I’m close.”

“No one wants to sit alone in an izakaya. Can’t you just be on time instead?”

“Sachirou, I’m already late.”

They hung up after that, and Kourai pulled the straps of his sandals over his heels before closing the door behind him. Even though he’d told Sachirou that he was already late, he found himself running down the stairs to get to the train station even a minute faster. Damn that Sachirou for being so cryptic, and the stupid socks, too.

* * *

When Kourai showed up, the collar of his t-shirt was damp, and the strap of his bag was twisted around him. It was 8:36, and Sachirou stood tall in front of him outside the izakaya. He took up a lot of space in the narrow alleyway. Several people turned their heads to stare at them while they walked past. Kourai wiped the sweat from his brow and frowned.

“I told you to wait inside.”

“I told you to be on time.”

Kourai had nothing to say that. It was true that he was supposed to be on time. “Whatever. I’m here now, aren’t I? I can buy, too.”

Sachirou whistled. “Hoshiumi Kourai-san of the Schweiden Adlers is treating me? Then I’d better drink up.”

“Ha, like you won’t be ordering shumai non-stop instead.”

True to Kourai’s predictions, Sachirou did order shumai instead of drinks. Next to him was a single glass of plum wine and a stack of plates just as high. This seemed to suit him well enough, so Kourai didn’t comment on it. Just like he didn’t say anything when old friends adjusted his socks or ordered karaage and tofu on his behalf.

“Otherwise you’ll only eat edamame and drink a bunch of beer,” Sachirou explained.

Kourai huffed. “You sure talk a lot for a guy who’s getting treated.”

Of course, Kourai’s stomach grumbled when the food came out to their table. Sachirou smiled, wide and knowing. They were at an izakaya, but the both of them dug into the food like it was a sit-in restaurant for a family instead. The last time that Kourai had eaten was a bowl of granola after his workout and he was still starving. When was the last time that Sachirou had eaten, for that matter? Even if he never told him when he was struggling, Kourai knew that Sachirou was balancing a full course load and a practicum at a clinic this term.

It wasn’t like high school anymore, when their schedules had been predetermined with regularity. In spite of living in the same city, it had become increasingly difficult to see Sachirou unless it was for quick dinners like this.

He propped his cheek against his hand and watched the motion of Sachirou’s throat bobbing as he downed his wine. Kourai’s fingers twitched against the bar.

“Have you eaten anything all day?”

The line of Sachirou’s mouth curved a little guiltily. “Of course I have.”

“Don’t tell me it was a cookie.”

“It wasn’t!” Then he sighed. “I ate a yogurt from the campus cafe.”

“Tch.”

Kourai pushed the karaage closer to Sachirou. For once, he didn’t have something smart to say back, busy as he was flagging down the server for a refill on his wine. All around them was the clinking of glasses and conversations of salary workers whose ties were slowly coming looser and looser as time passed.

“When does that school of yours expect you to sleep if they keep you so busy?” Kourai asked.

Sachirou shrugged. There was a somber expression on his face. “That’s just how it is, when you grow up. You can’t do everything, so some things get pushed to the wayside.”

Kourai understood. Even if it wasn’t food, there were things that he had given up on to walk his path: going to university, getting a steady job, living in the same rhythms of life that most other people his age seemed to follow. He raised his tumbler of beer.

“I’ll drink to that.”

Sachirou clinked their glasses together, before he started to laugh. It wasn’t his usual collected laugh, either. No, his eyes were crinkling with it, and he wasn’t trying to school his features into something cool. The alcohol must have already been getting to Sachirou, judging from the flush growing in his cheeks. He had been taking rather liberal sips from his glass. Kourai couldn’t help laughing along with him, even though he had no idea why. It was the contagion of laughter between two people who had known each other since they were kids, the kind that went beyond reason. They both of them collapsed against the bar, until Kourai was finally strong enough to sit back up.

“Why—why are we laughing?”

“It was just ridiculous! For a second, it was like we were really adults, and then you sounded like some grizzled salaryman from a movie drinking to the meaning of life.”

Kourai’s laughter died off. They were adults, though, and the shape of their lives had already changed beyond what they could have reckoned. He looked at Sachirou properly, at his shortened fringe and the thick arch of his brows.

“Hey, Sachirou.”

Sachirou straightened up a little. His gaze was relaxed when he turned to Kourai. “Hm? What is it?”

“Why did you fix my sock before the game?”

Sachirou blinked. If Kourai did the same, he would have missed the flash of panic in his expression. “I think it’s time for the check.”

“Wait, what are you…” he trailed off.

Sachirou was already searching for a server passing by. The companionable mood had broken, and it was just them in the chaos of an izakaya once more. Sachirou’s face was turned in profile, away from Kourai. There wasn’t even a crevice in the hard, forbidding line of Sachirou’s shoulder where Kourai could try to break past and guide them back to the conversation. Sachirou got a hold of the check, and Kourai pulled his card out.

“It’s okay. We can split it.”

Kourai clicked his tongue. “Yeah, right. You aren’t even making money at your clinic,” he said, smacking his card down onto the tray with the receipt.

He’d hoped that Sachirou would respond to that with some kind of complaint, but he accepted it quietly. That was how they left the izakaya, too, under a cover of silence that Kourai itched to tear off. He stared at the back of Sachirou’s head and narrowed his eyes at the hair whorl on his crown. Sachirou walked without looking back, into the alley that stretched out far in strips of shadows where the lamplight didn’t reach.

Was he supposed to say his goodbyes now and leave? Not that he could tell what Sachirou wanted. Kourai followed after him, unwilling to be cowed by his weird behavior. He could have at least told him to leave instead of walking off alone! They passed restaurants and bars into a staircase in a quieter neighborhood with less commotion. Bits of conversations and laughter flitted in and out of Kourai’s focus as they neared the residential area around Sachirou’s apartment. Everything was blue here.

Sachirou suddenly stopped on the step in front of him and turned around. For once, they were at eye-level. His normally placid expression was supplanted by a rare agitation. What was he so worked up for? Kourai was losing his patience.

“What are you doing?”

“Walking home, obviously.”

“If you’re walking home then how come you haven’t said ‘bye’ or ‘fuck off’ or even acknowledged that I’m still here?”

Sachirou sighed. “I wouldn’t tell you to fuck off.”

“Might as well have. You started walking by yourself, asshole.”

“I was just thinking.”

What Sachirou was actually doing was calculating. His gaze had lost the haziness from the drinks and returned to their former sharpness. He was watching Kourai. Kourai tilted his head. Sometimes Sachirou unnecessarily complicated things—like volleyball, a path forward, his feelings. It was best to be direct with him when he got like that. 

“Hey, do you like me?”

There was a long pause before Sachirou answered. “You’re so indelicate, Kourai-kun.”

Though it was dark, he could see the color rising in Sachirou’s face. Sachirou averted his gaze, but he kept staring. It was difficult to catch him in a moment like this, and Kourai wanted to hold onto it for as long as he could.

“I can’t believe you decide now of all times to notice,” Sachirou muttered.

“You didn’t say anything to me before. Also you touched my sock.”

Sachirou’s head jerked up at that, his earlier agitation back in full force. “I did a lot of other things, too, you know! Like taking care of you through middle and high school and watching all of your games now even the ones I can’t go see. I tell everyone at my clinic that you play for the Adlers. It’s not my fault you’re unobservant!”

“Wait, does this mean you’ve liked me since we were in middle school?”

Sachirou’s eyes burned with murderous intent. “Kourai-kun, either you’re making fun of me or you’re being serious. I can’t tell which will piss me off more.”

Kourai didn’t bother suppressing the smile that came to his lips. What a temper. He thought it wasn’t bad to see it being stoked every once in a while.

“I’m serious,” Kourai said.

He wasn’t talking about jokes, either. Sachirou seemed to understand. He didn’t move away when Kourai reached up to hold his face in his hands. His cheeks were still smooth and round, like they’d been in all the time that Kourai had known him. The summer night swelled, and they were the only two things in all the darkness around them. Kourai remembered another time when they had overlooked a stairway. The world had been a lot bigger then.

“I’m going to kiss you right now. That’s okay, right?”

Sachirou blew out air between his teeth. “Will you just do it?”

Kourai clicked his tongue once, before he leaned in and kissed Sachirou. It was just a dry brush of lips that lasted a few seconds. Then he pulled back a little and looked at Sachirou, whose eyes were closed and brow furrowed in anticipation. He was waiting for Kourai.

“Shit,” he breathed, and did it again.

He held Sachirou in place as their mouths moved with purpose. Sachirou parted his lips and deepened the kiss, encouraged Kourai to come inside and taste him. His tongue was sweet and sour like plums, and this close, the scent of beeswax balm filled Kourai’s nose. Sachirou’s hand came up to his forearm, where he gripped with cool fingers. Kourai sighed at the slide of their lips and the swirl of their tongues.

This wasn’t like anything that they’d done together before; Kourai didn’t want it to stop. It did, though. Eventually they parted and a string of saliva between their lips stretched before it snapped. Kourai swallowed and lowered his hands. Sachirou’s entire face was pink. Was he embarrassed? He smiled and pushed back Sachirou’s fringe.

“That wasn’t so hard, right?”

“Guess not.” Sachirou’s lips twitched.

“What are you doing tomorrow?”

“Studying. Why?”

Kourai began to descend the stairs again. He paused for a moment to lace his fingers through Sachirou’s and tug on his hand. “‘Cause I’m coming over. Let’s go.”

“What? But I haven’t cleaned it at all. It’s really messy!”

“So? I’ve already seen your messy room a lot of times.”

“Still, I’d rather you not,” Sachirou protested. It didn’t stop him from following Kourai down the narrow stairway.

“I’ll do your dishes.”

“Kourai-kun, please.”

They went back and forth like that the rest of the way to Sachirou’s apartment. Kourai didn’t let go of his hand even when their palms began to sweat from the humidity. Behind them lay the memories of yesterday and before them were their hopes for the future.

**Author's Note:**

> IT'S DONE. I stubbornly vowed to finish this week, and I did. Very slowly.
> 
> I was always planning on writing Sachirou and Kourai, but was very intimidated by it. There isn't nearly as much material of them as other characters in canon, so I had to read very closely that final game with Kamomedai. I hope that a glimmer of them can be found in this story.
> 
> Thank you to everyone who's read these entries. I've written a ridiculous amount of words within a week, and I've learned a lot of things along the way.
> 
> [twitter](http://twitter.com/catspizzas)  
> 


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